


Loser

by MadamRed



Series: One Word Prompts (Tumblr) [13]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Mental Health Issues, Rejection, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7963936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One word prompt requested on Tumblr: Loser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loser

**Author's Note:**

> Song fic loosely based on the song "Therapy" by All Time Low (which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5MIWoMzeeQ)).

Reid was sitting alone on one of the stools at a small bar in Las Vegas. The team was supposed to return to DC that day, but the storms above prevented them from doing so. After spending all day with his mother, he went back to the hotel only to be told that they had to wait at least until the next morning to see if the weather cleared. Since there were pretty much stuck, Hotch gave everyone the night off, as long as they promised to be up at 7 am the next day, ready to fly back.

Everyone jumped at the chance to enjoy a night out in Vegas, except for the young doctor. He decided to walk around his home town, and ended up at this bar, which happened to have an open mic night... just his luck. He had started his night by paying attention to the singers, but, as the night progressed, the performances became sloppier, and he turned around to focus on his beer instead.

‘Hi! This next song is called “Therapy”. I hope you all enjoy it!’ a clear, female voice said behind him, and then he heard a guitar being tuned before the actual song started.

But he was still thinking about what his mother gave him that morning. She had got a big envelope on the mail from his high school, addressed to him. He had opened it when he got back to the hotel and read the replica of the old school newspaper, but with updates on everyone’s lives. It was depressing to say the least.

 _My ship went down_  
_In a sea of sound_  
_When I woke up alone I had everything_  
_A handful of moments I wished I could change  
_ _And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade_

The one story that stuck out for him, though, was of a girl who had been a freshman when he was in his senior year. Her name was (Y/N), and she had made it on the paper under the title “ **loser** ”, which surprised him.

 _In a city of fools,_  
_I was careful and cool,_  
_But they tore me apart like a hurricane..._  
_A handful of moments I wished I could change  
_ _But I was carried away_

He remembered hearing about her grades and what a promise she was. He also remembered her being in the maths club with him, and how she helped him out of a few embarrassing situations in the last couple of months of school. He always thought she would make it big, considering that she was kind and excelled in her academics.

 _Give me therapy_  
_I'm a walking travesty_  
_But I'm smiling at everything_  
_Therapy..._  
_You were never a friend to me  
_ _And you can keep all your misery_

She had apparently gone to a prestigious university in another state, graduated and came back home to take care of her family and find a job. The job part, unfortunately, didn’t turn out like she had planned, the paper said. She had been hired and dismissed from more posts than he had ever seen.

 _My lungs gave out_  
_As I faced the crowd_  
_I think that keeping this up could be dangerous_  
_I'm flesh and bone_  
_I'm a rolling stone  
_ _And the experts say I'm delirious_

Then, after seeing a few doctors, the diagnose of her being bipolar got out somehow, and she left town. It was... a shame, for lack of a better word, that mental illness patients were still labelled as “crazy” in this day and age. His mother had suffered from it, he had struggled with the possibility of having a mental illness for a long time, and then the sweet little girl that he remembered had been rejected by her own town as well.

 _Give me therapy_  
_I'm a walking travesty_  
_But I'm smiling at everything_  
_Therapy..._  
_You were never a friend to me  
_ _You can take back your misery_

The only reason he kept going back there was work and his mother. If he could fly his mother out to DC to be near her, he would. But Vegas was her home, and he didn’t want to cause her any more stress than she already had.

He sighed, finished his drink and turned around on the stool, ready to leave, yet his eyes were drawn to the stage and to the woman sitting on a high stool behind a microphone. She was wearing dark jeans, a black, sleeveless top and an open, lumberjack shirt over it. Her legs were crossed, and she had the guitar balanced on her lap as she sang and played with her eyes closed. All of a sudden, he felt compelled to stay on his stool.

 _Arrogant boy,_  
_Love yourself so no one has to_  
_They're better off without you  
_ _They're better off without you_

 _Arrogant boy,_  
_Cause a scene like you're supposed to_  
_They'll fall asleep without you  
_ _You're lucky if your memory remains_

He couldn’t move his eyes away from her. The one light shining on her from the ceiling as a spotlight just gave her this... aura that he couldn’t even describe properly. And he didn’t want to, either. He felt that if he focused on finding the proper words, he would get distracted from her voice and the strong message of the song. It reminded him of the girl he had been thinking about... but that could’ve been his brain reading too much into the song lyrics.

 _So, give me therapy_  
_I'm a walking travesty_  
_But I'm smiling at everything_  
_Therapy..._  
_You were never a friend to me  
_ _And you can take back your misery_

 _Therapy..._  
_I'm a walking travesty_  
_But I'm smiling at everything_  
_Therapy..._  
_You were never a friend to me  
_ _And you can choke on your misery_

The final line was said more like a statement, and the fact that she opened her eyes for it gave the performance that much force at the end. He joined the applause as she bowed and thanked the audience. She got down the stage as another man, clearly drunk, missed the stool and everyone burst out laughing as he continued to miss the spot.

He saw the mysterious singer about to leave the bar and made his way to the exit quickly. He needed to meet her, to talk to her.

‘Excuse me,’ he said when he found her outside, under the bar’s awning to avoid getting soaked, looking from side to side for a cab. She turned around and opened her eyes in surprise.

‘Spencer? _Doctor_ Spencer Reid?’ she asked. He was taken aback by this stranger knowing his name.

‘Um, yes. I’m sorry but, how do you know my name?’

‘Oh, that must’ve sounded creepy! I don’t know if you’ll remember me, but we used to go to high school together. Well, I was a freshman, but we were in the maths club together. I’m (Y/N),’ she replied in one go.

‘I do remember you. You helped me out a few times at school and... I never got a chance to thank you properly.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m glad I was able to help you,’ she smiled, and they fell into a somewhat awkward silence.

‘How did you recognise me?’ he said after a minute.

‘Right. Since I... moved, my last address was actually my mother’s house, and when I went to visit her today, I saw the envelope with the replica of the paper... and your name was there.’

‘I read it today as well! My mother got a copy... I guess the school doesn’t update their records that often, huh?’ he said the last bit through a nervous laugh, realising he had just admitted to reading about her breakdown.

‘Yeah, and it’s okay. I expected my name to be in there. I didn’t expect the full account, though. Even after high school, people still like gossip...,’ she trailed off. ‘Anyway, I was surprised to read your name in the “30 under 30” section. There was a picture of you and everything.’

‘Really?’ he had to admit he hadn’t finished reading the newspaper since it only seemed to get worse and worse.

‘Hey, Spencer, it also mentioned that you still visit your mum... how, um, how is she?’ he knew what she really wanted to know and gave her a small smile as he made a decision.

‘You know what? I’ll tell you all about it over a cup of coffee. Do you know of any good places?’

She mirrored his smile.

‘I sure do! Follow me,’ and like that she dared run under the rain. She made it to the corner and turned around to shout: ‘Come on! Aren’t you coming?’ And so he followed her into the rainy night.

He made it back to the hotel just before 7 am to change and have breakfast with the team before they left. Everyone kept teasing him about the constant stream of texts he exchanged with you on the jet and during the week at the office. He just gave them vague answers and let them think he “got lucky” that night.

 _Oh, but I did,_ he thought, _in the best possible way._


End file.
